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Glorious Camp

The last day of camp has scrolled into view, and from my seventh heaven perch, I pronounce it marked with excellence: From my memory cache as I pull up camps of both close and distant years,  I judge this one–Santa Maria 2008–unsurpassed.

I started feeling better when on Wednesday morning, Michael rolled onto the grass beside our motor home in his ’72 Volkswagen pop-up-top “Hippy” van, which after service on Tuesday night, he and his friend Brandon had driven from Lake Havasu, AZ. to Ventura, CA. At 3:00 am, they had pulled over somewhere, slept for less than an hour, and had then driven onto the Santa Maria Fairgrounds.

“Mom, I feel like I’m in a candy store,” Mike had told me on the phone as they pedaled our way. “I can’t wait to be there.”

Last afternoon, I walked the grounds, and the tents erected on the far lots cheered me, as did the youngsters riding bikes, little boys throwing footballs, coveys of conversation on white slatted benches, BBQs smoking, the exhibit hall buzzing, and the food court throwing out the scent of sizzling hamburger and salty french fries. Beautiful children smiled at me, and I asked Dayna, (who I don’t even know) “May I take your picture?” and she smiled shyly as I snapped the shutter, and Berl’s great-grandson teased me and covered his angelic face.

Preaching that surely caused angels to lean down for a listen soothed and invigorated me. Federated in worship, a thousand voices anointed me, waves of manifest glory edged healing into my broken places. I saw God, high and lifted up…and all was well.

Young ministers who expertly and humbly spoke messages from God affirmed my thought that The Church is in good hands. The Way choir (comprised of young, unmarried people from around the district) effected such grand and magnificent music as should be heard in the finest of concert halls, except that their singing was accompanied by such deep and sincere worship that only in chambers of the sacred should such performance occur.

God’s in His Heaven; All’s right with the world. (Robert Browning)

By Shirley Buxton

Still full of life and ready to be on the move, Shirley at 81 years old feels blessed to have lots of energy and to be full of optimism. She was married to Jerry for 64 years, and grieves yet at his death in August of 2019. They have 4 children, 13 grandchildren and 11 great-grandchildren...all beautiful and highly intelligent--of course. :)

8 replies on “Glorious Camp”

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Sis Buxton, this truely was such a glorious camp. I remember last year all of your children and grandchildren being there and how happy and proud you were to have them and be able to take pictures of all the family there. So Happy that your boy is doing so good and truely happy that he could come to be with you here . Nothing lifts a moms spirit like having our children with us. You are a blessed mother . Remember to pray for My Ron and Kim. love ya bunches sis keyes

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I’m so glad you are feeling better Sis. Buxton. You see, all it took was to be in the presence of The Lord.
It’s not like you to be so melancholy. But maybe it is just a side of you that you keep under wraps.

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God seems to be sending pieces of Heaven to us each day and each evening. How blessed we are to be in His presence, and enjoying the fellowship of precious friends. BTW, saw you and Bro Buxton last evening at a distance.

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